New Everything
by Hidden Treasures
Summary: Both the Doctor and Rose are eager to catalogue the newness of the Doctor's body.
Rose sat down on the bed beside a feverish Doctor. Everything about this was wrong. This man had big hair, pale skin, and was too skinny for the borrowed pajamas, and his freckled-covered face caught her by surprise every time she looked at him, expecting angular cheek bones and too-large ears. She missed her Doctor, and yet he was still somehow, inexplicably, beside her.

She sighed softly and rested the backs of her fingers on his forehead. His skin was hot and clammy, and he let out a sharp breath and turned his face into her touch. His face pinched off for a moment before smoothing back into the relaxed expression that made him look so much younger than she knew him to be.

He was very handsome, she had to give him that, just her type, and she felt a flash of guilt for so quickly abandoning her old Doctor for this new one in bed, but at the same time her mind yelled at her, saying he was one in the same. She let out a harsh breath of frustration and pushed aside her concerns in favor of looking after him. Alien as he was, he needed her right now.

She absently stroked his cheek, tracing his freckles as she sat back against the headboard of her bed. She was exhausted, but couldn't turn her brain off enough to get some actual sleep.

The Doctor murmured something softly and leaned his head so it was leaning against her thigh. She smiled; he was just like a cat. She'd be sure to tease him about it when he woke up. _If he woke up_ , a voice in the back of her head sneered. _When_ he wakes up, she said firmly.

She absently carded her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. His hair was soft and silky and just begged to be played with. A deep and guttural moan vibrated in his chest and his face pinched off once more. She was worried that she'd hurt him and she instantly moved her hands back to her lap, but he whimpered pathetically and rolled himself towards her slightly.

Rose tentatively stroked his hair again, and he sighed softly and relaxed onto his back again. She scratched at his scalp again, teasing his hair between her fingers, and he let out a deep, whining groan as his brows furrowed. He rocked his body from side to side, and Rose suddenly noticed with a flash of embarrassment that there was a tent in the sheet between his hips. There had definitely _not_ been a tent there five minutes ago.

Heat flushed through her body, feeling completely mortified, and she lifted herself quickly off the bed. He whined again as he sought her out, but when he didn't find her, he managed to roll himself into his stomach.

The Doctor let out a soft sigh as he nuzzled his face into the pillow she had just been leaning against, and she saw his hips wriggle from side to side.

 _Bloody fucking hell_.

Okay, she should go. This was private and the Doctor would be absolutely humiliated if he was awake. It wasn't as though she'd never seen him with an erection before; far from it. But who knew what this new Doctor wanted from her. What if he didn't want her anymore, and was furious with her for watching him rub one out?

She quickly banished that thought, firmly telling herself that the Doctor, her Doctor, had promised her he would never not want her. She had to trust him on that until this new Doctor either confirmed it or rejected her.

He moaned again, and Rose swore he murmured her name; she cursed her traitorous body for the rush of wet heat that flooded her core.

She should go. She should really, really go.

Rose finally managed to unglue her feet from the floor and fled from the room, resolutely ignoring the needy whimpers and moans coming from the Doctor, whimpers and moans that were steadily rising in pitch.

She assured Jackie that he was still resting comfortably, and when Rose went in to check on him an hour later, she steadfastly ignored the wet patch on the front on his pajama bottoms.

oOoOo

This body was a virile one. An extremely virile one. He should have known that the moment he finally awoke from his regeneration sickness and found the insides of his pants messy and crusty. His assessment was further proved by the incessant twitching in his pants whenever Rose was near, especially when she smiled at him with just a hint of tongue.

 _Randy sod_.

He twined his fingers through hers as they looked up at the not-snow and the not-meteors on Christmas night. She rubbed her thumb against his and hugged his arm to her chest, and he could feel her soothing human warmth and the softness of her breasts, and, oh, how he would love to touch them with fewer layers and not with his elbow.

 _Bloody fucking hell_.

His cock was rapidly growing, and he had to quickly redirect his thoughts and blood flow to keep from embarrassing himself. Rose might not even want him like that anymore. This had been such a shock to her, and he knew he'd broken her trust in him, but he begged any and all deities that she would still want him.

"D'you want to come back up?"

The Doctor looked down and saw Rose peering up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He was about to refuse, to say that he had some repairs to do on the TARDIS (and, really, he did), but he silenced his gob just in time to grin at her and nod.

"Lead the way, Rose Tyler."

The Doctor instantly plopped onto the two-person sofa when they got back to the flat, utterly exhausted but trying not to show it. This regeneration was one of his worst, and while Rose and Jackie tried their best, they really had mucked it up. He couldn't blame them, though; he hadn't told Rose anything about regeneration, and considering, she did a damn fine job. His precious girl, always taking care of him. Her presence soothed him during his regeneration, and he hated to admit but she had cropped up in a dream or two (and he was fairly sure those dreams were the reason for his ruined pants).

He closed his eyes and his mind drifted back to the dreams he'd had. Rose was in his lap and kissing him, kissing _this_ him, and it was fantastic. She felt and smelled and tasted so good that he couldn't get close enough to her. Every time he tried pulling her closer, she seemed to slip just far enough away to tease him, until finally, _finally_ , she settled completely into his lap and rocked against him and it had felt so fucking good and _bloody fucking hell_ he was going to make a mess of his pants _again._

He quickly pulled himself out of his fantasy and subtly adjusted his throbbing cock so it wasn't pinched against his zip anymore. The Doctor quickly ran through a mental checklist of all the repairs he needed to do on the TARDIS as he tried to reroute his blood flow once more. This body was so much more responsive than he was used to, and he really needed to get a grip on himself.

"Are you still tired?"

He wrenched his eyes open and saw Rose standing in front of him in a sheer vest top and the shortest shorts he'd ever seen. _Fuck_. His cock pulsed back to life and wouldn't soften, no matter how hard he kept his eyes resolutely on the wall behind Rose.

"Nah, don't need much sleep, me," he lied.

Rose raised an eyebrow in incredulity, and he felt ashamed at being caught out.

"Okay, maybe a bit," he conceded. "Regeneration always takes it out of me."

"D'you want my bed?" she offered, wringing her hands out in front of her.

She looked exhausted. Her eyes had dark circles under them and every muscle in her body looked tense.

"Nah, you take it," he said. "I'll kip on the sofa. No worries. Nighty night, Rose Tyler!"

But Rose didn't leave. She bit her lip, and, _oh_ , how he'd love to nibble on that lip for her. _Focus_! his mind chastised him.

"The sofa's too small for you," she said. "My bed isn't big, but it's bigger than this. We can share, yeah?"

He stared at her dumbly for a minute, trying to process what she'd said. Suddenly her cheeks stained pink and she dropped her eyes to the floor as she murmured, "If you want to, that is. I dunno what you want. From me. From us. If you even want an _us_."

"I do," he said immediately, feeling the lightness that came with hope. She still wanted him!

"Yeah?" she asked shyly.

He couldn't stand seeing her so insecure. He pushed himself up and off the couch and stood in front of her. He cradled her jaw in his hands and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Rose, I told you before, I will want you always," he assured softly, pulling back to look her in the eye.

She smiled at him again, brighter and more confident, as she took one of his hands from her face to lead him away from an intoxicated Jackie and down the hall to her room. The Doctor winced when he saw the tree-shaped hole in the door.

"I can fix that," he promised.

Rose shrugged, and walked to the bed, flinging down the covers. She crawled in and patted the small space beside her in invitation, one that he quickly took. After a few minutes and wriggling and readjustments they were finally settled, with the Doctor on his back and Rose cuddled up to his side, her head on his shoulder and her arm draped across his stomach.

They lay in silence for several long minutes, but the Doctor knew Rose wasn't asleep. She was still far too tense, and every now and then, her fingers would clutch at his sides, as if holding him closer, before relaxing.

"What's wrong, Rose?" he asked quietly, resting his temple on the top of her head.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

His hearts broke at the fragility of her voice and the utter hurt. He knew exactly what she was referring to, and he swallowed his flippant answer of _tell you about what?_ He owed her more than that.

"I didn't think you needed to know," he said honestly. She flinched and inhaled sharply. "You have to understand, my last body was only a few years old. A Time Lord's body can last them upwards of centuries, and I honestly didn't think you would ever have to see me regenerate. But I am so sorry that it happened, Rose, and I am so sorry I couldn't stay in my old body for you. I know I scared you, and I know I broke your trust, and I am so sorry, Rose. So sorry. Please, forgive me?"

He held his breath and wondered if Rose could feel how hard his hearts were beating as he waited for her answer.

She cuddled in closer to him and pressed her lips to his chest as she murmured, "Of course, Doctor. But don't you dare go doing that again."

"I'll try not to," he said earnestly, and then, because he felt like he needed to interject a bit of lightness, "Besides, I quite like this body, don't you? Slim and sexy, eh, Rose Tyler? Much better than that daft old face."

"I loved your daft old face," she whispered wistfully, nuzzling her nose into his chest.

The Doctor's hearts stuck in his throat. He knew Rose love him in his last body, and he desperately hoped she still did.

"What about this new daft face?" he asked, aiming for flippancy and falling utterly short. He should be embarrassed about how nervous and needy he sounded, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He needed Rose to love him, simple as that. This body was literally born for her, created out of his unending love for her, and he inexplicably was more in love with her than he ever thought possible.

"It's growing on me," she said lightly, looking up at him with a tongue touched smile. "And I'm sure I'll grow to love it just as much."

Well, it wasn't a complete declaration, but he would take it. He sighed contentedly and held her closer.

He stiffened slightly as Rose's hand began to wander. She traced gentle lines on his chest, her fingers dipping lower and lower on every pass and if her hand went much lower, she would be able to feel how very much she was affecting him and _dammit_ , there it was.

She stiffed and he stiffened as her fingertips brushed across the head of his erection.

He was about to blurt out an apology, and crawl out of bed to flee to the TARDIS, when Rose's fingers wandered back down his stomach to intentionally rub at his clothed cock. He hissed in a breath and barely kept his hips from arching up for more.

"Rose," he said through clenched teeth. "Rose, you don't have to."

"And if I want to?" she asked shyly, lifting herself onto her forearm to look down at him.

Suddenly, her lips were pressed again his, and _oh_ , they were even softer than he remembered. So warm and soft and full and pliant, and he could spend the next eternity kissing Rose Tyler. The breathy moans coming from her went straight to his cock, hardening him further.

He let out the most undignified yelp when her fingers snuck under the waistband of his pajamas to grab him. He let out a shuddering groan and his lips popped away from hers as his head dropped onto the pillow. She carefully pulled him free of his clothes and kept herself propped up on her forearm to block him from view should Jackie decide to wander past.

"Rose," he gasped when he felt her thumb flick across the head of his cock, gathering the beads of moisture he felt leaking from him.

Her fingers wandered tentatively up and down his cock, as though relearning him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head. Her hand felt so fucking good, and _fuck_ this body was sensitive. Really, really sensitive. He could tell right away that he wouldn't last more than a few minutes if she kept this up.

"Rose, you have to stop, love," he warned, trying to still the thrusting of his hips. "Gonna come too soon."

"S'okay," she said, continuing her slow torture. "Been wanting to do this since yesterday when you popped a stiffie."

"What?" he squeaked. "You saw that?"

"Mhmm," she answered, smiling teasingly at him. "Good dream?"

"Oh, yes," he moaned, both in answer to her question and in response to the tightening of her fingers. She was still stroking him agonizingly slowly, but the friction was so much better and his thighs trembled with the effort of keeping his hips relatively still.

"You'll have to tell me about it later," she said, working her hand blessedly faster against him.

He let out a choked moan, and then a whimper when her hand stopped moving.

"Jackie's just down the hall," she whispered, nodding to the gaping hole in the door. "You have to stay quiet, okay?"

He nodded vigorously, desperate for her to keep touching him.

She leaned down and captured his lips between hers as her hand began moving once more, faster than before, and he knew the end was near. His stomach was alight with heat and tension, and he whined into her lips.

"What about you?" he gasped, clenching his eyes against the thrill of pleasure shooting from his cock into his balls and deep into his spine. "Wanna touch you."

"Later," she promised. "I want to learn this new you. You're beautiful, my Doctor."

He whimpered at the praise and he was unable to keep his hips still any longer. He bit his fist to muffle the moans, wishing he could let them out. He could tell right away that this new body of his was very vocal, and he hated this need for silence.

"Close," he gasped, digging his head in the pillow behind him as his hips thrust up sloppily in time with her strokes. "Rose, gonna come."

She worked her hand faster and faster, and suddenly her lips were on him. He clapped his hand over his mouth to cover his shout as the stimulation of her hand and lips and tongue sent him careening over the edge. He nearly sobbed in relief as his cock pulsed in her mouth, sending hot bolts of pleasure through him until he was barely cognizant of the world around him.

He suddenly became too sensitive and pushed her away. She let him fall out of her mouth and limply onto his hip before she crawled up his body and settled beside him once more.

"That was…blimey…thank you," he whispered, feeling sated and groggy and wanting nothing more than to cuddle with this beautiful, brilliant woman. Rose covered his lips with hers in a brief, sweet kiss that left him feeling so warm and loved and content.

"Tomorrow, Rose Tyler, I will demonstrate in perfect detail the content of my dream to you," he promised, delighting in the shudder he felt from her.

"I'll hold you to that," she said, cuddling up beside him and pulling the sheets over the both.

He wrapped his arms around her, so very happy that she was here and thankful that she still wanted him.

"Love you," she whispered into his neck before her breathing evened out, indicating she was asleep.

His hearts throbbed with love in his chest, and the words he desperately wanted to give her got stuck in his throat. He settled for pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. He could tell her tomorrow, when she was awake, and the day after, and the day after that, too, and every day thereafter, for as long as she could give him.


End file.
